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Okay guys. One chapter, every day, from now on. Deal? Deal. I would love some reviews for this, even though I think most of you are kind of mad at me right now. But just trust me, alright? I got this.
Chapter 21
Molly couldn't scream anymore. Her voice had turned into a husky whisper as Moriarty had burned his symbol into her skin. She felt it throbbing on her back, starting at the base of her neck and stretching downward, much bigger than that on the bodies of the other victims.
She could feel bruises down her back and arms from where he had hit her, and blood flowing down her back from where his fingernails had dug into her skin. Her clothes had been ripped to shreds, barely concealing anything anymore. Every mark on her hurt three times more than it should, thanks to the drug in her system. Molly was at her edge.
And yet, it wasn't over. She had done the autopsies, so she knew what came next.
Moriarty laughed harshly as he read her thoughts on her face. "Oh no, Molly Hooper. Don't for one minute think that I would ever want to experience that again. Going through it as Jim from IT was bad enough, and I would never put myself through that kind of torture again. Don't you understand? I don't want you. He doesn't want you. No one will ever want you, because you are NOTHING."
He grabbed her wrist and twisted on the last word, breaking it as Molly gasped in pain. The pain receptors in her brain worked in overtime, and Molly had to force the tears not to come from her eyes. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She held to this one act of defiance with all she had left as he continued speaking, his words oily and menacing.
"Think about it, dear. He told you everything, he used you only when he couldn't see anybody else. You have always been a last resort for him, no matter what he may have said. He uses you and never thinks a thing about it. You don't matter to him, or to anyone else. Sherlock Holmes is coming because he can't resist the game, not because of you. You just don't count, Molly…"
He raised a hand to slap her again across the scratch marks on her face, but the hand never landed. Instead, Molly heard 3 painfully loud gunshots, and watched as the bullets hit him. Two in the chest, and one through the forehead. She felt sick as she watched him crumple to the ground, lying absolutely still.
She saw them then, John to the left, Lestrade on the right, and Sherlock in the middle, each holding an outstretched weapon. It started to make sense- 3 distinct shots from 3 separate guns.
John and Lestrade looked stunned, as if they had only just realized what they had done, but Sherlock looked as if he knew quite well what had just happened. There was not an ounce of remorse in his eyes as they locked on Molly's. He was done playing Moriarty's game, and a grim look passed over his features as he came to her.
His eyes assessed the damage done to her quickly, and turned hard for a moment at the sight of all the pain she had been through. Then, he suddenly picked her up, carefully avoiding her injuries as much as possible, and cradled her into his chest as he breathed out her name in relief.
They sat there for what seemed like hours, saying nothing as they waited for the ambulance. Lestrade's backup, which had arrived far too late to do any good, took away the body and taped off the crime scene around them, causing quite a bit of commotion. But Sherlock and Molly never moved.
Eventually the ambulance arrived, for Molly. Sherlock carried her over and lay her gently on the stretcher, and then climbed into the vehicle as well, never letting go of her hand. He waited as the doctors poked and prodded her, and it was only then when he saw how much damage had actually been done. Once everything had been treated and the doctors left, Sherlock walked up to her hospital bed and gathered her in his arms again.
Finally feeling safe, Molly allowed herself to let go of the tears that she had been holding in for hours, sobbing in Sherlock's arms for the second time in that incredibly long, hard day. He said nothing, simply holding her until she finally fell asleep to the sound of beeping machines.